Piece of the Puzzle
by insight-to-insanity
Summary: Seto thinks about Katsuya and what he should do. One shot.


Did ya notice every fanfic I write is happy stuff? Rather odd, considering everything else I write is sort of morbid. Hope you enjoy.  
  
WARNING: this story contains YAOI as BOY/BOY stuff! If you have a problem with that, DO NOT read this! Also, this is...sad and a little demented. I guess. I like it, though.  
  
DISCLAIMER: I own NOTHING!!  
  
Seto POV (oooh, 1st time I used first person POV!!) He ponders his relationship with Katsuya and what he should do about it.  
  
A/N: I just had to write this, it's been in my mind for awhile now. Please don't hate me for this...  
  
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You never noticed, did you? How I would I seek you out in the sea of fellow classmates. I would ignore them, those mindless idiots. Ones who obstruct my view of you. I cannot tell you how many times I imagined killing them all, simply so I could see you more clearly. I would always ridicule you, belittle you, only to see your eyes flash in that one moment of passion and fury and every other emotion you evoke in me like no other. I wanted you to feel the same.  
  
I longed for you. Obsessed, even. The desk drawer in my private home office has a false bottom, buried within are notebooks filled with pasted in pictures I've taken of you. Most you don't even know about. That private walk home, the dull morning you were watching the clouds roll by; I shared that all with you. But you didn't know. I suppose I did stalk you. Didn't you ever once wonder how I turned up wherever you were? But you see, you belong to me. It is only fair, after all. I belong to you, you should belong to me.  
  
When I first began to feel these things, these absurd, useless things, I lost so many nights of sleep contemplating what it meant. And those nights when I was unfortunate enough to drift away from my body, I was plagued with dreams of you. Slick flesh. Soft licks. Hot skin. Gasps, moans, shrieks, screams encircling me. Whimpering need, tears burning. Expels of warm air, so clear on my face. Dreams are not meant to be so real. Yet you managed to make it so. My skin tingling long after, like you had a ghost grip around me, mercilessly refusing to relent in your hold. But it wasn't really there, and I was cold.  
  
It is for these reasons that I hate you.  
  
What? Did you think these were admissions of _love_, Katsuya?  
  
You idiot.  
  
Mokuba has noticed a change in me. He says he's worried. He says he knows I do not sleep enough, and he says that I've become distant and cold to even him. I wanted to reassure him. I wanted to tell him nothing was wrong and that it was all just a nightmare I would wake up from. But every time I wake up, you're there to remind why it would be better to remain unconscious.  
  
In my dreams I am still who I once was. CEO, prodigy, respected; these things I still am and always will be. But myself, you took that from me. My fearlessness you ripped to shreds with an easy laugh. My control you took with a step too close, eyes too heavy lidded. And my strength...I think that is why I despise you most. You make me _weak_. Me. Kaiba Seto. Weak because you exist.  
  
This situation is completely unacceptable.  
  
How dare you entertain the idea that it would be permissible--even for just a moment, to make me doubt who I am? You are no one. Just flesh, and bones, and blood conjuring up thoughts and emotions to carry out in your meaningless life. No more than me, but I infinitely better than you. Or at least I was.  
  
I hate you so much it actually frightens me at times. My body shakes with barely controlled rage and my eyes burn as if afflicted by the mere obligation to have to glimpse at you and your blonde hair and those gently colored brown eyes. My thoughts return to you always. How I could ruin you and push you down violently to the level you belong; the level resting at the soles of my feet. I want to remind you where your piece of the puzzle fits.  
  
Or rather that you have no piece.  
  
Not in mine, anyway.  
  
I could make the world hate you. It would be difficult, I admit. Those eyes and those smiles and those subtle quirks; they're so endearing. So maddening. But I could still do it. I could make all the ones you love abandon you with just a few well-chosen words. I could make you alone. Isolate you from the universe till you huddle into a corner of your mind and wither away to nothingness. Because that's all you are to me. Nothing. Do you hear me? You are _nothing_!  
  
I think the only thing that can rival my hatred for you, is my desire. I cannot even begin to express how many times I have fantasized about touching your soft, heated skin. Your silky hair. Breathy mewls from your lips. They'd be swollen from prior kisses. I have had to stop myself so many times mid action and remind myself that I don't really want you. That this is all some sort of game you have concocted in your feeble head. But what does that say of me? If your feeble head was able to make me fall so easily and willingly to your seductive aura, what does that say about me?  
  
It says you have forgotten your place.  
  
So down now, mutt. And stay down. But before you leave to reside beneath me, kiss me once. And when you do I'll shove you away, spit in your face, and sneer in disgust at your broken hearted, gut wrenching sob. Oh yes! Tell me you love me. You fool. You liar. Did you think you had pulled the cloth that completely over my gaze? Did you think I wouldn't see through the cracks in the mirror? I did. But I am still not entirely sure what it was I witnessed in their depths.  
  
Late afternoon. You so urgently held me back in the empty school courtyard. I glared hatefully at you, wishing that you would just bar yourself in that room and stay in that corner and leave me in peace so I can think.  
  
I just want to be able to _think_ again! Just once more.  
  
Feet shuffling nervously back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and...why aren't you looking at me? Why won't you at least meet my sight? You owe me that much! You've taken myself, give me at least my reflection in your eyes.  
  
The words were whispers. They hung precariously in the air, drifting around me and echoing in the recesses of my mind. Stabbing and pulling and warming me.  
  
I love you. That is what you said.  
  
And I turned and walked away from you. You grabbed hold of my shirt sleeve like you did so many times right before I would kiss you in my dreams. But I am awake and you...are you. And you do not fit. You cannot fit. I will not allow you to. I didn't push you, like I wanted. Nor did I kiss you, like I wanted. I did nothing. I simply walked away. I ignored you begging me to talk. I continued as you repeated your previous confession with renewed force.  
  
I am now in the privacy of my home, hidden from your eyes and deaf to your voice. But I can still hear you. My body is trembling, my voice shaking so badly I cannot utter a sound. Anger like this I have never felt before. I haven't felt elation like this, either. Those words...those words! So soft, so gentle...did you mean it? It wouldn't matter whether you did or not. You do not fit! I would laugh at you. I would chuckle at the misery you brought upon yourself. The same misery you for some obscure reason believed you could bring upon me. You fabricate the lines of my puzzle--my world, to meet with yours.  
  
I want so _badly_ to damage you beyond repair. To take from you your everything; yourself. I considered, for an instant, that I could do to you as you had done to me. Make you weaker like me. But no. You deserve worse. For you forgot you do not fit and I will not have that.  
  
Your life. If you lose that, then you lose it all, don't you? You truly will wither away to oblivion without it. Cry. Tears drowning everyone you hold affection for, because they are all powerless in this. I'll destroy it. So quickly I will. I'll shatter it. I'll kill your life. I'll murder it and rip it away from this world. I will break you. I will finally break you! It will be so easy to kill you.  
  
For I am your life.  
  
The End  
  
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If you're confused by that, basically Seto killed himself. Hmm, yes, I never claimed Seto was entirely sane in this story, now did I?  
  
Review please! And please be gentle, I didn't want to kill Seto...I love Seto!! huggles Seto plushie See?! Lovelovelove!!!!! 


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